


Battle Scars

by One_Real_Imonkey



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Aliens, Little funny, So yeah, Stuff, carwash siblings, cliffs, enjoy, little sad, lots and lots of stuff, lotsastuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Real_Imonkey/pseuds/One_Real_Imonkey
Summary: Corporal David Washington has kept his past from the rest of the Freelancers for a long time, only his sister and roommate know. Now, it may all come to light.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bold is Maine's growls that only Wash understands.  
> Italics is memories.

**B** **old= Maine's growls only Wash understands.**  

 

Maine woke to screaming again. He glanced across to the man across the room from him and slowly, quietly, made his way over to the bunk. 

Wash was tangled in his sheets and deep in another nightmare so Maine sat on the bunk and ran his hands through Wash's hair.  

He knew why Wash had nightmares and although he didn't understand what the issue was, he kept his promise and didn't tell the team. He didn't tell them about the scars Wash kept hidden under his armour or the prosthetic arm Wash only took off when no-one was around. Maine only knew because he was Wash's roommate and because he'd seen Wash get the injury. The only other people who knew were his sister, the Director and the Councillor. 

He knew the cause too, but only because Wash trusted him, because they'd served together and because he hadn't pried. He'd merely helped and waited for Wash to open up. And he had... 

. 

 _Wash shot out of bed in a panic and chocked on a sob. Maine was by his side, rubbing his back silently, like always._  

 _"I'm sorry Maine._ _I'm_ _sorry. B_ _y all rights I shouldn't even be here._ _"_  

 _M_ _aine had sim_ _ply_ _ra_ _ised an eyebrow but Wash continued._  

 _"The project was designed to_ _take special ops soldiers and make them into something more. You were a Spartan, Carolina was an ODST who ran black-ops style missions. I'm just a soldier who couldn't leave the war behind._ _"_  

 _M_ _aine shook his head, he'd seen Wash's file, the non-redacted one._ _He also been there on Handel._  

 _"Maine?"_  

 ** _"You were on the frontlines for five year_** ** _s. Most of us haven't seen frontlines._** ** _"_**  

 _"Still..."_  

 ** _"And, you took out half the invading force yourself, saving_** ** _civilians_** ** _and your squad in the process."_**  

 _Wash'd_ _almost laughed at that, "Not half, no way._ _"_  

 ** _"That's what the reports said._** ** _That's what I saw._** ** _"_**  

 _"Mathias?"_  

 ** _"In the flesh."_**  

. 

Wash had opened up quite a bit since, the two had exchanged stories and were even better at reading each other without talking. It scared the rest of the team. 

If you knew Wash was  'Front-liner' he made perfect sense. All the Freelancers had a style that was drilled into them but he didn't. In the training room he was clumsy. In the field he was deadly. He had no defined style, just ruthless kill or be killed skills. He also had little tricks, reloading in the blink of an eye and/or with one hand, things that would keep you alive in the field. 

He also never stayed still, another think he'd picked up. He wasn't used to sleeping for a long time, or free time, or the idea of the base being safe. He was always alert, ready. Years of never having his guard down. No-one knew. He smiled and laughed and messed about like a rookie. If they knew Wash the rookie was decorated war hero Cpl. David Washington they'd probably throw a fit.  

Maine would laugh. 

. 

Wash woke with a gasp and guilt filled his eyes as he looked up at Maine, "Matty, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." 

That was another thing about Wash. He was a genuinely nice person. It's why he did what he did all those years ago. He just woke from a nightmare from his past and his worry is about the fact he woke his friend up. 

Also yeah, Wash did shorten Mathias into Matty. And he called Wash, David, even if only in private. They'd learned names long before the project. 

Maine said nothing, he simply hugged Wash close and let the man rest his head on his shoulder. They both fell asleep soon after. 

. 

. 

. 

Maine collapsed into his bunk, exhausted. The mission hadn't been the best. Wash stumbled in a few minutes later having been discharged from med-bay. He  had taken a bullet for South, she thought he'd just gotten himself shot, and now is leg was wrapped in thick white bandages. He also flopped down on Maine's bed after taking his prosthetic off and curled up falling asleep almost instantly. Maine draped an arm over the smaller man and smiled. His fingers ghosted along the scars on Wash's face before falling asleep himself, enclosing the younger. Maine was there and Wash was safe. 

. 

. 

. 

The team were going to find out eventually, he just didn't think it would be like this. 

The mission started well, 4-7-9er dropped them off a little way out from the target and they made there way to it without much trouble. The issue came when they reached the compound. There were at least three times more guards than intel suggested and they were in WAY over their heads. They were overwhelmed. 

No-one noticed Wash had the most level head the whole time besides Maine. 

No-one even noticed Wash's disappearance besides Maine. 

Everyone was too focused on staying alive. 

Maine saw it though. He watched Washington, who was missing his helmet and had major damage to one arm, knock down four Insurrectionists only for more to take their place. He watched a man almost as big as him barrel towards Wash. He watched helplessly as Wash went flying, landed with a thud on the dusty, red rock and rolled over the edge. The small Freelancer wasn't conscious enough to scream. 

Maine had tried to help, he just wasn't strong enough. 

. 

. 

. 

They had been captured and taken to a dingy cramped cell that barely fit the seven Freelancers. It was in this time the others noticed Wash's absence. 

. 

. 

. 

Wash woke with pain ripping through his body. Where the hell was he? His focus returned to show the blue of the sky and the red of the cliff wall. 

Wait, cliff wall?  

He carefully repositioned himself and found he'd landed on a two by three meter ledge jutting out. There was an alcove that went into the cliff for about a meter and was easily two high. He was at least 20 meters down the cliff and knew it would be a difficult climb. 

He could barely move his head or body, his neck having been bruised by the fall and strained or sprained. He was lucky it wasn't broken. He was also covered in cuts and bruises and his robotic arm was missing. His helmet was also no-where to be seen. Not to mention the lump on his head or the concussion.  

20 meters, better get started. 

. 

. 

. 

"Where is he?" 

Carolina was demanding they tell her where Washington was and Maine didn't want her to know. She was Washington's older sister and she'd be shattered if she found he was dead, especially after the childhood of thinking he was dead then finding he'd been adopted by the Washington's because her father thought he looked to much like their mother and that he was too much of a hassle. He didn't want to watch that. 

It was almost fortunate they kept laughing. 

Their leader entered dramatically and swept over to their cell brandishing two things none of the team wanted to see.  

Wash's battered helmet and Wash's damaged, cybernetic, right arm. 

Most of the team had never seen Wash out of armour so the arm, which was designed to be part of the armour, looked even more brutal. The leader threw them into the cell with a holo-tablet and left with a flourish. 

The holo-tablet displayed a picture of a battered, one-armed, helmetless Wash splayed on a ledge in a pool of blood that surrounded him and his neck at a near impossible angle. It was brutal. 

Carolina was shaking her head in denial. The whole cell was silent for at least an hour. 

South was the first to speak, "Wash... has a robotic arm?" 

Maine nodded with a grumble, "Lot's of scars too. He's scared to show them." 

All eyes turned to him and York asked, "Why?" 

Maine shrugged helplessly. 

C.T. was the next to talk, "Which division was he, before?" 

To his surprise it was Carolina who answered, "Marine Corps. He was a soldier." 

"Why the hell was he even in the project?" 

"South," North's voice was shaky, "I'm sure there's a reason." 

Gunshots rang out from far above and the team exchanged looks. It couldn't be B-squad, the MOI is hours away and they'd only been here an hour. Who would attack here? 

The attacker appeared in the doorway only a few minutes later, all three guards dropping, a bullet in each head. 

And there he was, one arm missing; cuts, bruises and dents everywhere; devilish grin on a scarred face; and a pistol in his hand. He shot the lock and the cell door swung open. 

He wiggled the stump of his right arm, "Lend me a hand?" 

Wyoming was the first to react with laughter in his voice, "Wash, old boy, we thought you were dead?" 

"Takes more than a 60ft call to kill me."  

Maine smiled as he growled, **"You're a dick!** **"**  

"Ha-ha!" 

 **"I thought you were dead. You almost died. You're injured.** **"**  

Maine caught Wash as he slumped. 

 **"What's hurt?** **"**  

"Everything, but mainly my neck." 

South almost laughed, "This is a really one sided conversation. Can we have it when we're out of danger?" 

Wash nodded and winced slightly. 

. 

. 

. 

They fell into the pelican and Carolina instantly began to apply bio-foam to the worst wounds and a brace to his neck. He grinned all the while in the usual Wash fashion but Maine could, as always, see right through it. 

 **"What's wrong?"**  

Wash glared with a look that wordlessly said, 'I've got a headache and everyone knows about me and everything hurts and I just climbed a cliff one-handed!' 

 **"You need sleep."**  

This time he responded out loud rather than in their own, private, silent communication, "No shit." 

Carolina looked up from her conversation with York, "What?" 

"Sorry boss, I was talking to Maine." 

South scoffed, "Neither of you spoke." 

The two looked at her with a glare of, 'Duh'. 

"So", South asked, "You're 'just a soldier' huh?" 

Maine growled threateningly and Wash sighed, "Yeah, South, I was a Marine. I fought on the Front-lines for five years, including all of Handel." 

"Handel? But, didn't that fall to the Covenant?" 

"Yeah, same time as Reach, never made the news because it had a smaller populous. They couldn't send Spartans or anything so it was just us. C.O. sent a few squads to recover some bases rather than deal with the evac and I went after them, pulling rank to get rid of them. There were a lot of Covies. I sent half back to the evac and the rest continued with me. We went from point to point picking up and dropping op groups, most had one or two soldiers and five or six civilians. I sent the last two members on the last ship from UnderDelta and told them I'd leave at Blit. Covies attacked, I lost my arm, I met up with the only Spartan on the planet. Two days later we made it to Gor Juss and left on the last ship." 

"A Spartan?" There was disbelief in South's voice, "What are they like? I've only ever met Maine." 

"I've only ever met Maine." 

The whole pelican fell silent as his statement sunk in. 

Maine smirked, Wash fell unconscious, Carolina muffled a laugh. 

. 

. 

. 

Two weeks passed and, while Wash (Corporal David Washington, as the team found out) was still off active duty, he was out of the med-bay. York found him in the workout room with Maine. 

Well, he found Maine doing press-ups with Wash cross-legged on his back reading the book '1005 cat jokes and puns' aloud. Maine was grinning. 

York backed slowly out of the room and ran. 


End file.
